


Golden (A.K.A: A Very Katia Reconciliation)

by The_Bin_Man



Category: Prequel (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:27:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4603335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bin_Man/pseuds/The_Bin_Man
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quill-Weave and Katia do some stuff. This story is a sequel to A Very Katia Kristmas (which is super short) which you can read here:<br/><br/>http://pastebin.com/e1H4TTyQ</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden (A.K.A: A Very Katia Reconciliation)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Sidecar and Austin for proofreading.

Quill-Weave adjusted her sunhat, adopting a frown as she shifted uncomfortably under the oppressive summer heat. She took a deep breath before continuing down the winding garden path, her bag hanging loosely at her side. As she approached the cabin, the shade casted by the wooden roof provided something in the way of solace from the sun, though it did little to slow her thrumming heartbeat. She wasn’t sure if she could attribute her quickened pace to the heat or to her nerves, but it was quite likely a mixture of both. She resolved that it was a matter of putting one foot in front of the other, and that she did, making her way swiftly towards the cabin.

In all honesty, she felt that her mobility was a blessing. The aches and pains so often associated with aging were certainly _present_ , but much to her relief, they were not accompanied by the debilitating languor she had come to fear as time went on. She supposed she had her strikingly active youth to thank for that, seeing that to some degree she still retained the agile and limber form one might expect of an acrobat. Parkour is it’s own special brand of acrobatics, she mused, glancing over her figure.

She stifled a laugh as she noticed herself unconsciously tracing paths in her mind’s eye, her gaze wandering as a variety of potential shortcuts and avenues of escape suddenly made themselves known, each one less conventional than the last. Old habits die hard, it seemed. She noticed one particularly harrowing trail leading straight through a briar patch, and another weaving through a clump of poison ivy. After some time, she froze in her tracks without warning before shaking her head, her expression steeled in an attempt to banish her meandering thoughts. She had to focus on the task at hand.

Before long, she found herself unceremoniously stepping forward onto the rather modest porch, her hand left hovering over the door. There was some deliberation before she finally brought her knuckles forward and knocked, producing a solid three raps in succession. Time seemed to crawl forward at a snail’s pace as she stood, the air around her hanging still. She briefly considered turning tail and running, leaving this whole debacle behind her, but her thoughts were interrupted by a series of clicking latches.

All at once, the door swung open, forcing Quill-Weave to take a step back. Her eyes went wide as she released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, nearly losing a grip on her bag in the process. She quickly scrambled to collect herself as she took in the view in front of her, a trace of awe in her expression.

Katia’s eyes still held a hint of the innocence Quill-Weave had come to admire, but there was something new as well. Her familiar gaze was now accented with a newfound maturity, her expression one of quiet wisdom. Quill-Weave almost expected an accusatory glare, but Katia harbored no such expression, instead springing for a warm half-smile. Her features were notably more defined than before, as if she had grown into her looks, and she stood with a brand of confidence that would have looked out of place on anyone else. Her half-smile spread into a full grin as she spoke a greeting.

"Hello, Quill-Weave."

Quill-Weave internally debated if pulling her into a hug would be inappropriate, but was denied the chance as Katia stepped out of the way, gesturing inwards.

"You must be boiling out there. Come on in."

Grateful to escape the heat, Quill-Weave obliged and stepped into the marginally cooler cabin. Upon a glance, it held the familiar rustic feel one might expect of a cabin, as well as a touch of Katia's own personal flair. Books of various genres lined the walls, many removed from their spots on the shelves and stacked haphazardly along the floor. A writing desk was pushed up against the far wall, stray documents littering the surface, joined by a collection of quills. The curtains lining the windows were drawn aside, allowing light to filter through and illuminate the assortment of lavish furniture around them. It was admittedly nicer than Quill-Weave had expected.

She jolted to a stop as she noticed Katia's arm held out. She paused for a moment before Katia's intentions became clear. Rigidly, she removed her sunhat and passed it forward into the waiting hands before her, watching as it was set it carefully in its place among a handful of other hats. Quill-Weave smoothed out her matching lavender sundress before glancing up once more.

Katia, for her part, was wearing a dressy white shirt and a pleated brown skirt. Quill-Weave personally thought the getup was unnecessarily formal for what was a supposedly casual meetup, but she refrained from voicing her opinion. She felt her shaking hands search for pockets along her dress to bury themselves into, and upon finding none, she found them settling for a spot behind her back.

Her hands were busy knotting themselves together when Katia spoke, breaking the silence. “Why don't we head to the kitchen? We can sit at the table and catch up.” With that, she began working her way towards the opposite end of the room. Quill-Weave trailed behind her, moving to pick up the bag she had set down, then making several long strides to catch up, her motion interrupted as she moved to dodge the numerous piles of books in her path. Katia shot an apologetic glance back at her. "Sorry about the mess. There's only so much you can shove under the rug before you realize you have way too much stuff."

Quill-Weave spoke for the first time: "I don't mind it much." Her voice came out little more than a croak. She noticed a slight shift in Katia's body language, but it was gone in an instant. Each of them was silent for the remainder of the trip across the room.

After what seemed to be an eternity, they arrived at the similarly lavished kitchen. Walking up to the table, Katia pulled a chair out for Quill-Weave, and Quill-Weave hastily plopped down, grateful for a chance to rest her legs. Katia took her own seat, then looked at Quill-Weave expectantly before asking: “Can I get you anything to drink? Eat?”

Quill-Weave made sure to articulate this time. “No, thank you. I ate at the inn on the way over.”

Katia sighed suddenly, letting her arms fall to the table with a thud, making Quill-Weave jump a bit. Soon after, she leaned back against her chair, her arms crossed. “Look, can we not make this awkward? Whatever might have happened way back when is water under the bridge, and I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. We both made mistakes, but I don’t want to lose a friend over some stupid spur-of-the-moment thing.”

Quill-Weave clenched and unclenched her fists under the table. “You still consider me a friend?”

Katia looked incredulous. “Of course I do, Quill-Weave! Gosh, now you’re making _me_ feel bad.” Quill-Weave watched as a devilish grin sprouted on Katia’s face. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we just start over from the beginning?”

Before Quill-Weave had a chance to ask what she meant, Katia snatched her hand into a vigorous handshake, the action exaggerated. She took a deep breath before launching into a spiel. “Hello, Quill-Weave! Welcome to my humble abode. Please, make yourself at home.” Katia pantomimed the act of closing a door and trudging her way across a room, remaining seated for the duration of the charade.

She continued: “Now that we’re all settled in, I wanted to thank you for coming. I didn’t feel I could show my gratitude in a letter, so I had no choice but to invite you over and thank you in person!" Katia’s voice dropped to a whisper as she cupped a hand over her mouth and leaned over the table. “Now it’s your turn to thank me for having you!” She began gesturing wildly in Quill-Weave’s direction.

Quill-Weave was momentarily stunned, before bursting into laughter, despite herself. In turn, Katia devolved into a fit of laughter herself, the sound sweet and melodic to Quill-Weave. Soon, their laughter became contagious, each cracking up at the other’s reaction and starting the process all over again. Between gasps, Quill-Weave was able to get out the words “Thank you for… having me!”

After several long minutes, the laughter died down, but the friendly atmosphere remained. Each of the two had dopey grins on their faces, any foul mood shattered. The whole exchange had erased many of Quill-Weave’s doubts, and she felt as if a weight had been lifted. Though she wasn’t entirely out of the water in terms of censoring her thought process, she felt much more confident in her spot at the table. She closed her eyes for a moment before speaking. “I think I might take you up on your offer.”

 

**•••**

 

The duo now sat with tea in front of them, the mugs filled nearly to the brim. Katia had opened a window to help combat the stuffiness, but Quill-Weave still found herself sweating under her collar. Katia was in the middle of recounting a tale.

"...and so I contacted my publisher and she told me we could get a shipment out within two weeks. That would have been great, except for the fact that I was still missing four chapters and my arm was in a sling. Just my luck, I guess."

Quill-Weave glanced at the books she had removed from her bag a moment prior, each of them authored by Katia herself. She supposed she had _them_ to thank for this meeting in the first place, considering that their existence was pivotal in bringing Katia back into her life.

She had been initially dumbfounded when she had received the letter asking for her assistance in writing them. Considering she had been front and center for many of the events detailed within the books, she had acted as a wealth of information, leading to an exchange of many letters thereafter. Despite their extended correspondence, the contents of the letters rarely went beyond pleasantries and the usual fare of event recollection. As such, Quill-Weave was even more surprised when she received a personal invitation to Katia's home, completely out of the blue, and only after much consideration did she actually decide to make the journey.

The trek itself had been mostly uneventful, thanks to the largely fruitful effort on the part of the province to clean up the roads. Nonetheless,the duration of the trip was spent weathering a rising sense of uneasiness in the face of interacting with her old compatriot. Now, having dealt with the initial reunion, she felt little more than a budding sense of giddiness.

The books themselves were of moderate length, though not quite to the point of being considered doorstoppers. She could tell Katia was proud of them by the way she gushed on, her tone doing little to hide her excitement. In Quill-Weave’s opinion, she was right to be proud, as she knew firsthand the time and resources Katia had poured into her writing. Each novel was written to serve as an autobiography and motivational book rolled into one, with an occasional splash of comedy, though whether the humor was intentional or just a product of Katia's recurring misfortune remained to be seen. Split into various sections of Katia's life, they contained a selection of tales and anecdotes, ranging from light-hearted and inspiring to somber and wistful. Though many details were unavoidably inaccurate or missing outright, Katia had bared her soul for these books. She had strived to chronicle her tale as honestly as possible, leaving out neither peak nor valley, and it certainly showed.

Though Quill-Weave was at first expecting little of Katia's writing endeavor, she was pleasantly surprised when the first book took off, especially among young adult readers. With additional help on Quill-Weave's part to recall details, she soon produced a second book, to similar reception. "The Sadcat Diaries" were an immense success, and judging by the lush property Quill-Weave now found herself in, Katia had profited substantially.

Although Quill-Weave’s own books had never quite reached the same level of success, she didn't find herself to be envious. Her books were far more utilitarian in nature, and she had gone into the business expecting little in the way of fame and fortune. Still, her books had kept her afloat all these years, including through an addition to her family, and she wouldn't trade her experiences for the world.

Quill-Weave's attention fell back on Katia as she finished her story. She had a sheepish look on her face.

"I think that might be enough about my work. It looks like I'm boring you."

Quill-Weave looked at her before shaking her head. "Sorry, I zoned out for a minute there. I'm glad you got everything sorted out with your publisher, though."

Katia perked up. "I am too. Now I see what you mean when you said publishing was a nightmare. Anyway, we should take some time to _actually_ catch up." She propped her elbows on the table and cupped her hands over her chin. "Give me all the juicy deets. Did you ever find yourself a, um, partner?”

Quill-Weave cringed a little at the question. "I never married, if that's what you mean." There was a look on Katia's face that she couldn't decipher. Eager to change the subject, she added "I did eventually end up adopting."

Katia's interest was visibly piqued at that, her eyebrows raising. "You never mentioned that in the letters."

Quill-Weave shrugged. "It never came up."

Katia blinked. "How old is he? Or, she?"

"He. Orin-Eem is turning eight next month. He's already taken an interest in reading."

"Is he...?"

Quill-Weave rolled her eyes. "Yes, he _is_ an Argonian. That wasn’t the sole deciding factor in his adoption, mind you. I went through several orphanages to find the right fit. Speaking of orphanages, talk about a nightmare of a process."

"I can imagine." Katia took a sip of her tea before continuing. "You already know about M’nassi. I made sure to mention him in _my_ letters." Katia stuck her tongue out at Quill-Weave playfully, before reverting to a neutral expression. "We just celebrated our second anniversary."

Though she had been anticipating this moment, Quill-Weave's blood still ran cold at the mention of Katia's spouse. She had long accepted their different walks of life, but hearing his name escape from Katia's lips was the final nail in the coffin. Hoping her expression wasn't a tell for her true emotions, she let a question slip as nonchalantly as possible: "What did you say he did for a living again?"

Katia's face lit up. "He's a carpenter by vocation. In fact, he built the very cabin you're standing in. With a little help, of course." She telekinetically lifted her mug to demonstrate. "It's nice to find any opportunity to use magic, nowadays. Anyway, he's off on a big job now, and he won't be back for another few days. An empty house certainly takes some getting used to, but we make it work."

"You two seem very happy together."

Katia looked contemplative at that. "He knows how to take care of me."

Quill-Weave suddenly pushed against the table, getting up from her seat. Upon an inquisitive glance from Katia, she excused herself to the restroom. She made her way there, her feet dragging a little, with directions relayed from the kitchen.

Shutting the door behind her, she placed her hands on the countertop, her gaze resting upon her reflection in the mirror. The reflection returned the gaze, revealing the tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. She blinked them away as she took a few deep breaths, her body shaking. She was appalled with her reaction to a few offhanded statements, but she failed to steady her hands, instead opting to clutch them to her chest.

The shaking subsided as an image of her son sprang to mind, laying across the couch and struggling as he tried to make out the big words in one of his mother's books. The slowing of her heartbeat was palpable as she wiped away the few remaining tears and straightened her posture, smoothing out the creases in her sundress once more. It was several minutes before she finally exited the restroom and made her way back to the kitchen. She paused at the doorway, her feet refusing to move any farther.

Katia was still seated at the table, her eyebrows creased with worry.

"Is everything alright?"

Quill-Weave didn't answer, her eyes trailing around the room before finally meeting Katia's.

Katia was a far cry from the timid creature Quill-Weave had come to know all those years ago. She had made a name for herself, her novels widely celebrated among scholars and casual readers alike. She was happily married, situated comfortably in the home she had built for herself, secure in the fact that she could look forward to each and every day. Even now, she looked almost at peace, a warm mug grasped loosely in her hand, her works lined up in front of her.

Quill-Weave knew there was nothing in the world that could tear Katia away from this place. She was oddly at peace with the fact, as if Katia's happiness could act as an anchor for her own. With a friend like Katia, she could almost pretend she was satisfied with her lot in life. Sporting a solemn expression, Quill-Weave removed herself from the doorway and made her way back to the table.

Katia looked momentarily panicked as Quill-Weave clutched her into a hug, but her expression soon softened, her stance relaxing as she squeezed Quill-Weave in return.

Without breaking the embrace, she repeated herself, speaking over her shoulder: "Quill-Weave, is everything alright?"

Quill-Weave's lips curled into a smile.

"Everything's golden."


End file.
